


In The Clear

by TLynn



Series: Tangled Up [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Romance, Series, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLynn/pseuds/TLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everyone needs an escape, after all...A much-needed break from the angst of life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Clear

She looked down to see his hand clasp around hers again and smiled. The streets of West Hollywood breezed by beyond the   
windows of the limousine, lights bright against the darkened sky. She nestled back into her seat and allowed   
herself the comfort of her surroundings, of being away from D.C. and work and usual life. Everyone needs an escape,   
after all, and no one more so than she and Mulder, she felt.

The past several months had been a roller coaster at best. The final straw, for her, was being forced to watch Mulder   
balance on the brink of death yet again. The events in Winston-Salem, though "routine" for them anymore, took a   
large toll and left marks deeper than either of them would have guessed. With leave granted by Skinner, she'd watched   
over him as he healed in the subsequent weeks, but even now she could still see the image of him coding in the   
hospital, gasping for breath. She shivered at the memory.

"Hey, you okay?"

She turned her head to see him staring down at her, a smile on his face, but concern in his eyes. His voice was back to   
normal now, the rasp having completely faded just a few days prior.

"Yeah," she assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "But I'm hungry."

"Really? I'm still feeling a little nauseous from the movie."

She huffed out a laugh and he smiled.

"So what'll it be, Scully?" he continued. "With that credit card we can afford dinner for two at any number of   
pretentious, overpriced, all-exclusive restaurants in the area."

"True," she agreed, remembering that their hotel was just blocks from the heart of Beverly Hills. Surely Rodeo Drive   
or Wilshire Boulevard would host elegant dining, complete with gourmet food, expensive wine, and sinful desserts.   
"But while we may have the monetary means, we are without one very important necessity."

"Egos too big to fit through the front door?"

"Okay, *I'm* without one very important necessity," she said, a teasing twinkle in her eye.

His mouth gaped in mock offense.

"No, reservations," she clarified. "But that's okay. I know where we can go."

* * *

They walked hand-in-hand down the street towards their hotel, bellies full of chicken tacos and perhaps one too   
many Coronas, a comfortable silence between them. Scully smiled up into the warm southern California night, cheeks   
flushed and mood light from the alcohol.

The evening had been surreal, a daydream come true, the details of which were happily forgotten in her current   
state; to passersby they would appear to be a normal, unassuming couple out on the town for dinner and a movie,   
now on their way back to their hotel for a relaxing evening. No one had to know the film featured an   
"amalgamation loosely based on" her and her FBI partner, that their employer had paid for the several beers consumed   
between them over dinner, or that she'd hoped said beers would ensure far more rigorous than relaxing activities   
when they finally reached the hotel, which was just a few blocks away now.

She turned her head to take him in, eyes forward as he strolled along, tuxedo jacket slung casually over his   
shoulder. She glanced down to their hands clasped together, her eyes traveling up to the expanse of his exposed   
forearm. As they'd sat down in the small taqueria, he'd shed the jacket as soon and worked the cufflinks off as   
they ordered their food. His voice became nothing but a gentle rumble as her attention focused solely on the   
actions of his fingers, working each toggle through the small holes at his cuffs. She'd idly wondered if the   
cufflinks belonged to him or came with the tuxedo and made a mental note to ask him later. Now seemed like a good   
time.

"Mulder--"

Her train of thought flew into the night as her foot caught a protruding piece of sidewalk, vaulting her forward in a   
fall that would have been anything but graceful. A small jolt of pain coursed through her arm as he tugged to keep   
her from hitting the pavement.

"Easy there, Scully," he warned. "Maybe you should let me drive."

She laughed, even as embarrassment colored her cheeks even further. A witty comeback was on the tip of her tongue when   
she stumbled again. Incredulous laughter bubbled from them both.

"The sidewalk's out to get me, I swear," she chuckled. "I didn't have _that_ much to drink."

"Ooh, that sounds like an X File if I ever heard one. Killer sidewalks? You can't make that stuff up."

A grin broke through his even tone and she laughed again.

"I guess it's a good thing you're here to walk me to my room, then, isn't it?"

"I'm at your service, m'lady."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, fingers still intertwined as they entered the hotel and rode the elevator   
up to their floor. As they reached their rooms, she pulled her hand from his, fishing in her small bag for her   
cardkey. She stopped at her door and he at his, side-by-side, their eyes meeting in a heady gaze.

"Goodnight, Mulder," she said pointedly, ever one to keep up appearances.

"Goodnight, Scully," he responded with a nod.

Once inside, she shed her clothes quickly. Dress hung and undergarments tossed aside, she slipped into her favorite   
two-piece pajamas of soft white silk. Though Mulder would no doubt appreciate something sexier and slinkier,   
especially after the delay of the last month, she relished the idea of him peeling the familiar comfort of them away,   
slowly and deliberately, and discovering her bare underneath. They'd had little time for such exploration of   
each other during their earlier unions, the first shrouded in darkness and desperation, the second heavy with   
trepidation. Tonight, she vowed, would be about exploration.

His knock was soft, but insistent. She padded over to the connecting door and opened it slowly. His hair, neat and   
slicked just minutes before in the hallway, stuck up in several directions, a testament to his own quick change of   
clothes into a white t-shirt and yellow pajama bottoms. At first glance, it was a familiar sight, conjuring memories   
of late nights and long cases. But now, the look in his eyes was decidedly different.

He stepped over to her, looming, invading her personal space. His eyes held hers for a long beat before he   
gracefully dropped to his knees. Her mouth opened to question him, but the words were lost as his hands came up   
and, starting at the bottom, began to unbutton her top. One, then two, he stopped at the third and gently drew the   
silk panels apart, revealing a triangle of flesh. The skin of her belly was pale and the muscles tight, the flat   
expanse undisturbed but for the hollow of her bellybutton. She sucked in a breath as his head inched closer to his   
revelation. His nose lightly nuzzled against her first, inhaling her scent even as he brushed against the smooth   
elastic of her bottoms, riding low on her hips. Her hands rose to rest on his head of their own accord and she found   
herself gasping as his lips, then tongue, began to graze against her. Each caress sent a spark of arousal through   
her and she let out a shaky breath, her hands raking through his hair in encouragement. He pulled back, gaze   
transfixed on her stomach, and ran his thumbs over her, spreading his saliva across the surface of her skin. A   
tremble surged through her body.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" he asked, his voice thick, his eyes dark with desire as he met   
hers above him.

All she could do was shake her head.

"Years, Scully," he sighed. "Years."

She tugged at his shirt until he rose to his feet and then pulled his head down for a searing kiss. Her body trembled   
as his tongue pushed through her lips, tasting her, her own mimicking him, thrust for thrust. She laid her hands to   
rest against his chest and gave him a slight nudge until he began to walk backwards. She steered him, disengaging her   
mouth from his as his legs hit the foot of the bed and forced him to sit.

She climbed on after him, straddling his lap as her knees hugged his waist and her bottom came to rest atop his   
thighs. His hands fell to her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her mouth into his once more.

"Uh uh," she mumbled against his lips when he began to kiss her.

He leaned back, brow furrowed. She couldn't help the smile that bloomed across her face. He grinned and leaned in   
again.

She pulled just out of his reach and shook her head.

"Be still," she told him, resting her finger against his lips.

He nodded and did as she asked, even as she leaned in back in and pressed her lips against his mouth. She placed soft   
kisses along the curve of his smile, each increasing in pressure as she worked from left to right. She then swept   
back in the other direction, darting her tongue out once she reached the swell of his bottom lip. She traced it   
slowly, testing its soft pliancy, savoring its salty taste. She inched back slightly and met his gaze.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" she asked.

He shook his head, lip glistening still.

"Years, Mulder," she sighed, "Years."

* * *

The shrill ring of the telephone woke him immediately and he groaned. He lifted his head to see Scully still sleeping   
peacefully next to him. The phone rang again. He leaned over to the bedside table and fumbled for the receiver in   
the early morning light.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

"Agent Mulder?"

The familiar voice quickly pulled him from the grasp of sleep and he sat up, rousing Scully as well.

"Yes, sir," he managed.

"I just got a call from D.C.," Skinner said. "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut the vacation short in the   
interest of a breaking case. Your and Agent Scully's assistance has been requested."

"Yes, sir," he said again, glancing over to wide blue eyes.

"I've arranged for an earlier flight. Be downstairs in twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes," he echoed.

"I trust you can relay this message to Agent Scully?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. See you both in twenty."

They dressed and packed quickly, meeting out in the hallway with their luggage and guilty consciences in tow.

"Why do I feel like my father just caught me making out with my boyfriend on the living room couch?" she remarked   
with a shaky smile.

"For the same reason I feel like I'm gonna get my ass kicked as soon as we get back to D.C.," he said.

When they reached the lobby, the A.D. was waiting.

"Agents," he said by way of greeting. "Shall we?"

Skinner said nothing of the fact that Mulder answered the phone in Scully's room at 5am. And Mulder and Scully said   
nothing of that fact that Skinner was still wearing his rumpled tuxedo from the night before.

Or that there was lipstick on the collar.

* * *  
end

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: To my fantabulous beta, Carol, for keeping me concise and coherent.


End file.
